


Jazz burnt down the kitchen

by pjlover666, silberstreif



Series: Collaboration [13]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, looking things on the bright side, prowl likes green
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 14:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15075212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjlover666/pseuds/pjlover666, https://archiveofourown.org/users/silberstreif/pseuds/silberstreif
Summary: Title says it all. Jazz burnt down the kitchen.





	Jazz burnt down the kitchen

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic, at least two or three years old, never made it to posting until it was found tonight and decided, why not? The authors have quite a few fics like this one :D Enjoy.   
> Unbeta'd.

Prowl’s colleagues always joked that, one orn, he would get a call saying Jazz had burnt down the building they lived in. Yes, Jazz was _that_ bad at cooking. Though it was all fun and laughs and teasing. Jazz was responsible enough to make sure nothing of the sort happened. Sure, he had set energon on fire and had a mixer explode in his hands, but it was nothing that big.

Nothing serious. 

Until the orn Prowl really **did** get a call that Jazz had burnt the building. 

* * *

For a moment Prowl stared at the place where his front door used to be. Now it was lying pitifully on the ground, broken with step marks all over it as the firefighters had made their way in. Hurriedly, he went inside, calling for Jazz. He didn't pay mind to all the dirt inside his home, something that would’ve driven him crazy before. He ignored all the strange mechs walking around his apartment. Prowl didn't even notice the heavy smell of smoke around him - all he needed to do was _find his mate._

"Jazz!" Prowl called again, looking around, feeling like a stranger in his own home. A couple of the fire fighters gave him strange looks, some even asking what he was doing here. Prowl flared his wings as his worry only made him more easily irritable and the Praxian was ready to start chewing heads off when a mech took pity on him.

"You mean the short, crazy mech with a blue visor?" A firefighter asked.

Prowl's glared response was, "He is not crazy."

"He refused to leave the burning room because he was trying to 'rescue' a couple of data pads." The mech deadpanned. "Anyway, he’s in one of the other rooms, a medic was looking him over."

All that Prowl wanted to say was forgotten and he lost all interest in the happening around him, as he headed towards the pointed direction. 

Their berthroom.

A room that was supposed to be private, the door was fully open, for everyone to see. He stopped at the doorway and just stared at the scene before him, spark flipping inside his chest.

"Would you _stop_ squirming?!" A medic asked exasperated, kneeling on the ground next to a large berth, as he tried to clean the clogged up vents inside a black and burnt-covered Jazz's chest. The visored mech was sitting cross-legged on the ground and didn't have a speck of white on him, the only thing close to it were some gray areas, with an annoyed expression on his face. 

"I'm _fine_! Can I close my chest already?" Jazz asked exasperated, trying to swat the medic's hands away.

"No!"

The only color he had was the blue of his visor. 

A bright, _healthy_ , very much alive blue hue.

"Jazz..." Prowl couldn't help but whisper as the relief suddenly threatened to overwhelm him.

Startled, Jazz looked up saw his lover. "Pro-" He didn't even have time to properly say his mate's name as the other had pushed the medic aside like a sack of rocks and was suddenly clutching him on the ground. 

"Primus, I thought... I thought..." Prowl held him close, grip tight, the fear in his spark so very real still. 

"Um... Ooops?" Came a nervous reply from the mech in his arms.

That seemed to snap Prowl suddenly back to reality and he channeled all of his worries into his target: Jazz. " _What in the name of Primus where you thinking?!_ " Prowl gripped him by the shoulders and shook him hard. "Have you finally gone mad?!"

"Mad in love with you." Jazz tried to grin but it resulted in Prowl shaking him again, making the medic next to them growl.

"Idiot!" Prowl said, finding the strength to let go of Jazz and stand up, so the medic could kneel again and resume his work.

"I wanted to make you some Praxian goodies..." Jazz tried to offer.

"Instead you decided to burn down the kitchen!?" Prowl exclaimed, looking down at him. "No, do not say another word!" He stopped Jazz from opening his mouth, instead he turned towards the medic that was already closing the other's chest. "Is he alright?"

The medic sighed. "Yes, surprisingly. He doesn’t even need a trip to the hospital. Just a couple of clogged up vents that I cleaned, and minor burnt marks on his armor. Though, you should keep an optic on his ventilations just in case, but I don't expect any trouble." He gave Jazz a look. "Seems like stupidity goes hand in hand with dumb luck."

"It was an _accident_!" Jazz said that for what seemed like the millionth time that orn.

"Because you weren't paying attention." The medic said and Jazz bit back his glossa to stop himself from saying something. With that, the medic excused himself and left a very dejected Jazz sitting on the floor, glaring daggers at the retreating mech's back. 

"Why are you on the ground?" Prowl found himself asking as he watched the mechs gather their things and slowly start to leave.

"Didn't wanna get the berth dirty too." Jazz mumbled. "I really wanted to make something lovely for ya." 

"I know." Prowl said quietly and made his way towards the kitchen to check on the damage. It wouldn't be that bad, right?

Right.

Prowl stared, silent. His lovely kitchen... was nothing but a nice memory now. He heard Jazz make his way to him as well. The moment of silence stretched out long enough to make Jazz next to him fidget. Prowl looked up at the dark ceiling, then at the burned floor, at the ruined appliances. His wings gave a twitch. Still he didn’t say a word.

Next to him stood his black mate“Well!” Jazz said nervously and winced. “You did mention you wanted to redecorate the kitchen... now is a good time, yes?” 

Prowl looked at him and took a deep sigh, “I wanted to _repaint_ the kitchen.” He said quietly.

“Well yes!” Jazz gestured with his servos to the destroyed room. “But now you can buy a new oven! Also a new energon dispenser. And get the floor-tiles changed... and the windows! You know... now you get everything new from scratch!” 

Still staring blankly at his ruined kitchen, Prowl gave a deep vent “... Good thing I insisted on that household insurance. I just need to explain to them, that we are not trying to cheat them, and then we might have the money to do all that... and maybe to repaint it then as well. I always liked green.” He said more to himself than anyone else.

Jazz winced, “So you're not... mad?”

Prowl blinked a couple of times as one of his doorwings twitched. “For a moment I wanted to rip you apart. Thankfully, I then saw that you were unharmed and not burned to death as I feared.” 

“Oh.” Was Jazz’s brilliant reply, “...That sounds fair. So, umm, Prowler, love... you had a couple of datapads on the table... I tried to save them..."

There was silence to his words. Prowl did not respond, just gazed at the ruined room. 

“In my defense, I was only trying to boil the energon first...” Jazz mumbled.

“The datapads were my recipe collection. I thought the kitchen was a fitting place to write a few new ideas down.” He looked sadder about the pads rather than the ruined kitchen. “I don't remember all of the receipts.”

“Oh... um, you'll rediscover new ones? I can help you cook!” He added the last part. He had made this mess, he would help Prowl get his recipe book back.

“ _No!_ ” Prowl said suddenly, “Uhm, no, thank you, really, but I would appreciate it if you let me cook most things from now on.” Maybe he could code the new oven so that only he could have access to it…

“I was trying to surprise you.” Jazz said, rubbing his scorched helm.

“You succeeded.” Prowl huffed. “When my own boss called me to get home immediately, I was _very_ surprised.”

Anxious, Jazz looked at his mate suspiciously. “You are very calm about this whole thing... I thought you would yell at me at the least...” 

Suddenly, Prowl turned around, walking out of the kitchen and into the smoke-smelling living room. There, he collapsed on the couch, rubbing his face. “Jazz, I was called out of work because my house was _burning_. When I arrived no one could tell me where you were. I feared that...” He looked at Jazz. “Compared to that, a destroyed kitchen is not bad.”

Jazz carefully followed Prowl to the living room and winced at the front door that was still on the floor from the time when the firefighters had burst in their home to  extinguish the fire. Jazz was very aware of the dark foot steps he was leaving behind and hesitated sitting on the couch next to Prowl. The last thing he wanted was to make the couch also black. "I'm okay." He tested the waters by trying to grin. "See? Just a little darker than usual. But the look suits me still, right?" He tried to joke.

Prowl looked up at his lover, and made a grimace. "You look hideous."

This orn he didn't have the energy to joke anymore. He simply wanted a clean, healthy Jazz within his arms.

"Oh." Jazz visibly deflated. Unconsciously, he started rubbing at his darkened armor again to try and get rid of the black splotches. When Prowl didn't say anything, Jazz carefully made his way to the front door. A neighbor was peaking from their apartment and Jazz waved awkwardly at them, before lifting the door from the floor and perching it against the entry-way so that at least no one could look inside. The firefighters had long since left along with the medic, both not needed anymore. With that done, Jazz turned back to his lover who was staring blankly at the wall ahead of him.

"... If you yell it might make you feel better..."

Prowl didn't say anything to that. Instead, he looked around, then stood up, walked past Jazz towards their wash racks. Expecting the Praxian to start shouting any moment now, Jazz wearily followed him. He stared as Prowl started filling the bath tub with solvent.

Jazz blinked. "... Normal mechs would yell at this point. And banish me to recharge on the couch for the rest of the vorn...” He trailed off but Prowl didn’t seem to notice him. “Um… I'm the one with the smoke inhalation, not you... Unless your plan is to drown me.... or water torture....?" He babbled.

Suddenly, Prowl went over to Jazz and scooped him up in his arms, the other protesting that he was getting the armor dirty. "You have dirtied and destroyed enough of our house, my dear. Time to wash you. And then time for recharge. And tomorrow I will see about contacting the insurance company."

Jazz stared at the other as he carried him to the tub. "...This is not a normal reaction to this kind of situation..." He muttered.

"It's either this, or I start yelling. And I had a _long_ orn." Prowl explained as he placed Jazz in the tub. "Unless you prefer the second option?"

"No!" Jazz was quick to say, "No...This passive-aggressive thing you have going works just fine for me..." 

The water sipped through his seams and Jazz shuddered. He really _was_ dirty. The solvent was already turning dark from all the sooth is was washing from his frame. Jazz looked at his pedes and failed to see Prowl reach for the shower head and turn it on, making him squawk in the water, splattering it everywhere.

Jazz glared behind the visor. "You know, I can do this myself."

"I know." Prowl said, carefully reaching with one hand to unclip the visor, revealing the only part of Jazz that wasn't covered in black - the area around his optics. 

"I really did just wanna surprise ya, positively I mean."

"I know."

"I never meant to make such a mess."

"I know."

Jazz gave him a look. "Sometimes you know too much."

Prowl gave him a smirk. "I know **you**. And that is enough."

Jazz just blew some bubbles at him.

~


End file.
